


Static

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [18]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, idiots to lovers, long distance romance, these two idiots, war zone romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: Her imagination conjured up bullets whizzing by in the background, ignoring the internal rational protest that no, he wouldn’t call her during a pin down like that. He had a free moment. The line was just full of static.





	Static

**Title:** Static  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Gen  
**Timeframe:** The Deal of the Art  
**A/N:** If you do the math, it’s 5 months between the kiss on the touch in Thrill of the Hunt and the kiss in the bed in Just Like Riding a Bike. So. What happened?  
**Disclaimer:** Look, I make no money at this. In fact, if I were smart, I would stop writing fic and just switch to original stuff. But, Peter and Murphy won’t leave me alone. So here I am, playing in this sandbox. Don’t worry, Diane and TPTB all still own everything.

 **Summary:** _Her imagination conjured up bullets whizzing by in the background, ignoring the internal rational protest that no, he wouldn’t call her during a pin down like that. He had a free moment. The line was just full of static._

She couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t a rare thing. Insomnia had plagued her on and off since her time in Vietnam. Between the memories that haunted her in simply the worst times and the reality that multiple stories at once only led to her sleeping when her body collapsed but choosing to work when all she could do was toss and turn. What worried her was that Avery seemed to be picking up her patterns. He woke when she came home, he stirred when she found herself pacing the living room, worrying over copy.

Once, she’d have buried these emotions with Jack and a carton of Camels. Now, she only had the demons to crush under the weight of notes and videotape. She wasn’t teaching Avery the best habits, but it was impossible to deny her child the time they missed together. Reading time at three in the morning was even more precious somehow than mid afternoon book piles.

But tonight, the insomnia bug had nothing to do with memories of barely missed bullets and buildings caving in. Avery slept and her stories were up to date. No. This bug was about worry and bombs and a man who had kissed her to the point of insanity.

God. Was it wrong to admit to herself that she missed him? They’d had what, two hours together as a … couple … before he got on a plane and every minute he was away from her, the worry and anxiety deepend.

No one knew. Of course no one knew. What was she going to do? Tell Frank, who was so threatened by Peter he couldn’t see straight? Confide in Corky, who was so wrapped up in her own “rejection” of Peter that it would become a competition? Jim? Doris? Well, okay, Doris might be someone, but she’d tell Jim and then that was a cycle she just couldn’t get in to. So it was late nights and her journal and hopes and prayers to gods she only had statues for that he’d make it back to DC safe and sound.

The phone rang.

3:00 in the morning, which meant only one thing: a story and Miles needed her to cover it. At least it would distract her from all of this.

“Yeah?” She asked as she held the receiver to her ear. But it wasn’t Miles’ high pitched whine coming at her through the wires. Instead, it was an earful of static, enough so that she almost hung up. Almost.

“Murphy?!”

Her heart stopped. Just two weeks into him being gone and she was already panicking from a war zone call. What would it mean if he got hurt? What would --

“Can you hear me?”

“Barely!” She hopped up and closed her bedroom door lest her voice wake Avery. He was a lighter sleeper than she was. “Peter?”

Her imagination conjured up bullets whizzing by in the background, ignoring the internal rational protest that no, he wouldn’t call her during a pin down like that. He had a free moment. The line was just full of static.

“How are you?”

A pause. He was asking her how she was while he was in some remote area that barely had phone service. Who was this man and how had she nabbed him?

“I’m okay,” she sighed. The static on the phone eased just a bit.

“It’s late there. I’m so sorry to call like this but …”

“I was up.”

She wasn’t sure if the silence was a dead line or him processing her answer.

“It’s late,” he repeated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Worried about you,” she admitted. “Silly?”

“Sweet.”

She rolled her eyes. “You okay?”

The static pulsed across the line and she could barely hear his “I’m fine. Really. I miss you.”

How could he miss her? They’d had one glorious hour in her office, one heart wrenching kiss on her couch. B _ut she missed him_ , her inner voice taunted. That inner voice had grown more and more bitchy the longer she was sober.

“How is it?” She asked. She’d seen his eyes when they reported from war zones, how he’d reacted to bombed out buildings and broken soldiers. She’d watched him charge into the fray to report the story and listened to his confessions in a dark hotel room in Jerusalem. He was a hero, loud and macho and confident, covering the heart that broke just a little more each time he watched a child die. She’d seen all of this in the months they’d known each other and now, in every report she caught. He wasn’t hard to read once he let you in and here, at three in the morning, she realized he’d let her in the night of their very first show.

What did that mean? Really?

“Loud and scary,” he admitted. “The latest ceasefire has fallen apart and people are … it’s bad here. Women are hiding. They’ve issued warnings that female journalists shouldn’t come cover this.”

That rose her hackles. “Hey --”

“This isn’t a joke, Murphy. People are getting hurt.”

She heard it then, his own worry. The fear that Miles would send her here and she’d come face to face with the guerrillas who were dragging women out of their beds into the streets and using them as weapons of war. Gang rape by men in uniform, holding off saviors at gunpoint. She heard his unspoken question, his worries and wondering if she’d ever had to hold off a mercenary who wanted more than to fight for money.

Someday, she’d tell him. She’d learned to throw a punch for a lot of reasons after all.

The static rose on the line again.

“Tell me something normal,” he said. “While I’ve got the line.”

She chuckled. “Well, I’ve wowed the art world, I’ve put in the order to get the lock fixed on my door, Avery is starting to pick words out of his favorite books.”

That stopped her. She’d just mentioned Avery to him.

“That’s great. Which ones?”

“Cat and mommy. So. Nothing too surprising.”

Peter laughed. Murphy stared at the photo of Avery on the mantle in her bedroom. How would he react if she and Peter worked out? He was so used to Eldin as the man in his life. Uncle Frank was his go to guy. What about a man who shared Mommy’s space? Would Peter want to be involved? Had he dated a woman with a kid before? Hell, did he have kids that she just didn’t know about? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility after all. What women wouldn’t want to have a child with a man who kissed like that?

And Jesus, what was he saying? What had she missed?

“... They’re sending me to Peru next, I think. If the shelling ever stops long enough.”

“Trading in the Balkans for the jungle, hmmm?”

“What about you?”

“My next assignment? Here in DC for a while, though there’s an trail I’m following on a story that I won’t tell you about cause you’ll come back here and steal it from me.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back then?”

“You know I do.” The words were out before she realized she’d said them. “Frankly, I’m pissed you’re going to Peru next. Doesn’t the network know you’re needed back here?”

“Needed?”

“Shut up.” She sighed. The line crackled and whined. “Peter?”

“I’m here.” His voice was so far away. He wasn’t going to be there for long.

“Just, duck, okay. I could use another kiss or two …”

“Me too.” This time she didn’t imagine the sound of gunfire. “I’ll duck, okay? But I gotta get the camera out there.”

He didn’t bother with a goodbye. Murphy didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have either. But she did stare at the phone for longer than she wanted, listening to the beep of the dead line. Once, that had been her. It still would be had Avery not taken priority.

What then? What if she and Peter became serious? What choices would he make about Avery? Could she be with someone who didn’t make him a priority? Jake hadn’t and she lied to herself and said it was fine, but her heart hurt every time Avery saw a kid with a dad. She could do it on her own, but Avery deserved someone who wasn’t his uncle or his nanny. So what? She fall for this guy who would spend months at a time ducking bullets? Did she do that to him? To herself?

But she liked Peter. And so far, he’d managed not to die. Although the sniper had been far too close for comfort.

She tossed the phone down at the edge of the bed and flopped back onto the pillow. Worry and phone calls laced with static, that was what she had to look forward to. Was she really doing the right thing? Was this the man she wanted to open her heart up to again? Jerry had proven long distance was a joke and Mitchell had been a dalliance in stupidity and Jake just didn’t care. But Peter called. He’d called and checked in and he hadn’t made promises he couldn’t keep. _It wasn’t like they were getting married_ , she lectured the teenager in the back of her head. All she wanted was to feel his arms around her again. To take it one minute at a time. To finalize the promise he’d made in that kiss in her office. Then she could worry about whatever next steps mattered. After all, they were going to crash and burn. This was a certainty. All she was really worried about was whether or not he’d make it back soon enough that she could find out just how hard he was under those clothes.

But still, maybe it was time to get a cell phone, something besides the one in the car, to be available at all times. Just in case he called again.


End file.
